On to this week’s prompt, which is again inspired by the upcoming dark holiday. This time, though, we’re giving you a lot more room for interpretation. Please remember to use the third definition, which, in this case, is fairly specific.

BLACK3: dressed in black

33-333 words.

Well this is part of a larger assignment, it seems. It started with this post, which was done by request, then someofyou* expanded that to include Death for a Trifecta challenge. Well I missed one of them, but this week well, read and see.

*yes those are three different links. Click all the blogs!

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Pat Porquepene was a prick. Everyone who had any dealings with him learned that firsthand, and liked to say “Pun Intended,” when labeling him as such.

Still, he was a hell of an operative. One of the few of his species that could actually shoot his quills (with point blank precision, no less), his come-on to any female that had a hint of rodentia in her blood, that some of his quills were poisoned, gave an extra whiff of danger to his overactive pheromones.

His latest assignment took him to Comoniwanalaya Island, where the climate and culture put any species into heat the moment they flew, or swam, in. He sat by his cabana, nibbling tobacco bark and staking out Count Skunkula, ruler of Rainbodia, a once prosperous nation whose namesake rainbows only appeared on the oil slicks from his many unregulated factories. Skunkula’s secretary, Wilda Beest, was two cabins down, sunning her ample frame. Pat had ordered room service to deliver a bale of Avalonian hay for her, to which she had returned a come- hither glance that made him shiver. The hazards of this job…

Suddenly, a figure sat next to Pat. Glancing over casually, he noticed the figure covered in black robes, giving no hint to his features. They sent a partner? I work alone… then again I can pass Wilda on him…

“No, she can’t see me Pat. Right now, only you can…” the figure answered.

“Who sent you?” Pat asked, his cool tone beginning to fail.

“The Fates. I got your assignment, and what a location to do it! We get expense accounts too, and this won’t even count towards my vacation time! Tell you what, I’ll let you know right before you buy it.”

“Are you…”

“Yep, Death. Inbonate. You see that sniper? Exactly. “The irony is Skunkula didn’t arrange this. Apparently you’re a real prick to many people. At least you won’t have to… you know,” Death gestured to Wilda.

I am glad you started this Death by Porcupine series. You are at your best when you are writing almost tongue-in-cheek about commentaries covered by quills and bunny fur. I wonder where this story line will go – I wonder if the quills will prick the hares. Hah! Maybe, one day, they can join forces to quash evil and reality TV. ;-)